


The Marketplace

by NebulousMistress



Series: Horay for Tentacles... [1]
Category: Danny Phantom, Ghostbusters (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Other, Pre-Series, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-09 16:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulousMistress/pseuds/NebulousMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One can find anything on market day in the Ghost Zone. Including those things you never knew you wanted.</p><p>Part of 'Sides of the Same Coin'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by one Tangerine_Catnip. I was poked into doing this. Poked and prodded and...

_October 1995..._

It was market day in the Ghost Zone. The space and rocks around Pariah's Keep teemed with unlife. Merchants flew in from all over the dimension to hawk their wares, their collections and trophies, those objects they could smuggle in from the world of the living. Anything could be found here among the stalls and shops. Even the smallest patch of carpet holding the barest selection of merchandise held treasures the likes of which would never be found again. Anything and everything from ancient and venerable tomes to missing left socks could be bought for the right price.

Vlad Plasmius flitted through the market, only barely listening to the din of voices around him hawking wares, haggling prices, shouting about thieves, telling tales about the human world... He passed by a great glass hookah surrounded by ghosts all clad in purple robes, multicolored smoke curling from their mouths as they passed around the pipe. A night hag meandered through the middle of the path, her chain of glowing skulls gibbering behind her. Ghostly children ran around chasing the skeleton of a dog. A hulking beast sold stinking strips of rotting flesh on skewers to a line of hungry customers.

Finally Vlad came across what he was looking for. The book seller was currently occupied with a customer who didn't look as though he could pay for all the books he was trying to cart off. Vlad took the opportunity to sort through the completely unorganized pile.

Oh this was interesting... Vlad found a book that he'd never seen before. " _Serpent Cults of the Antediluvian Age_ ," he mumbled, reading the title aloud. He flipped open the book, squinting and turning it upside-down in order to make sense of its mind-bendingly weird table of contents. This... might prove useful... He turned to a promising page and began to read.

Vlad was snapped out of his reading by the strike of a rod against his head. He glared at the shopkeeper who merely brandished his yardstick. "You're as bad as the Ghostwriter," the shopkeeper growled. "Insistin' on readin' before you pay! How dare you."

Vlad snapped the book closed. "Very well then," he said. "Have you read this?"

"I... tend to stay out of the affairs of Yig, iffn you catch my meanin'."

"I'm sure the Rainbow Serpent appreciates that," Vlad said dismissively before naming a price. They haggled for a few minutes before settling on a final cost. Vlad reached into his cape and pulled out his payment. A copper bracelet, a silver spoon, a snake skin, and a couple of chicken bones were dropped into the merchant's gloved hand.

"A pleasure doin' business with you, Loa," he said. Vlad made a dismissive noise and tucked the book into his cape. The book vanished, lost to space and time until called upon again.

Vlad wandered the stalls. Within a locked paddock several black horses could be seen, their manes aflame as they pawed at the rock with iron hooves and snorted brimstone past fanged maws. Several little girls leaned over the railing of the paddock holding treats out for the demon-horses, trying to lure them close so they could pet their fiery manes and velvety noses. One reared up and screamed, a piercing roar that echoed through the market.

The strange feeling of a clawed hand at his cape pricked Vlad's attention. He whirled around and caught the would-be pickpocket by the wrist. A quick glance brought its leather cloak, cloven hooves, wild hair, and its veiled mask to his eyes. Ah, no wonder... Vlad flipped the thief born of Leng over his shoulder and followed it with an ectoblast.

"Hey, Plasmius! Yeah, you with the human-suit! We don't want your kind here..."

Vlad sighed, feeling supremely put-upon. It never failed... It seemed every time he came to the market something like this... He turned around to face whatever small-minded ghost wanted to be deconstructed today.

He stared for a moment before he burst out laughing. The entire Ghost Zone knew about this one. He'd failed to conquer the mortal realm in his life and failed again in his death. Defeated by a bunch of humans with tanks of base ectoplasm, the ghost equivalent of being taken down by kids with squirt guns. "What is it today, hmm?" Vlad taunted. "On a castle of skulls on a mountain of pain you sat on a throne of, what was it, delusions? Inadequacies? Couldn't even possess a baby..."

Vigo the Carpathian growled. The crowd around them had formed a careful circle, not wanting to get in the way but also not willing to miss the show.

"You should have found someone to write a better contract," Vlad said, grinning smoothly. "A rakshasa, a bokor, even a mortal lawyer. I know a guy..."

Vigo rose to the bait, firing the first shot. Vlad dodged, his cape flaring behind him. He raised his own hands to fire off a shot.

There were rules to these marketplace duels. Ectoblasts only. No duplication, no core involvement, no complex ectoplasmic manipulation. Other than that, though, fighting dirty was encouraged. Which is why Vlad should not have been surprised when reality rent itself asunder and grasping tendrils of slime reached out to grab him.

Should not have been surprised, anyway. One foot was grabbed and tethered before it began to pull him down. More and more tendrils wrapped around him, imprisoning him in a cocoon of bright pink ectoplasm. "Couldn't think of anything else, could you?" Vlad mocked. "So do you even have any other tricks?"

Vigo tried to ignore him, instead using his fingers to guide where and how the slime should engulf this... contractual abomination. Still, his eye twitched as Vlad's words pricked and poked at his pride. The ghosts swirling around them jeered and taunted, adding to Vlad's taunts.

"I bet you don't," Vlad purred. "I bet your entire plan for New York was just to flood it all with slime and hope everyone drowned. It's easy to conquer a city when you think you're the biggest fish in it. But you're not. You still would have failed. Stomped by a hundred foot melted marshmallow man... Although something tells me you would have enjoyed that, sticky marshmallow goo surrounding you as thoroughly as your precious slime..."

Vigo snarled, letting lose a blast of paralyzing power. He relished the arch of the half-breed's spine as every human muscle in its form tensed and froze. Ah, possession, it was such a weakness to those who relied on it...

The crowd did not take kindly to the rules of engagement being so blatantly broken. They advanced as Vlad twitched in annoyance. This... was not his plan. No, he'd been planning on weakening the ghost's hold over his slimy minions or whatever this stuff was before pummeling him into submission. Still... As ghosts advanced on Vigo he couldn't doubt the effectiveness. The slime lost the control of its master as he was suddenly occupied.

Chaos reigned as the blasts of a budding turf war spread into the market, sending everyone and everything scattering. Vlad broke free of his slimy prison and shot off to his home portal as fast as his mind could take him. This was not a battle he felt the need to join.

*****

Ugh. Today had been unexpectedly long. What was supposed to be a quick excursion to the Ghost Zone to pick up a few rare books ended up ruined by a ghost too incompetent to even possess a baby. And he still hadn't managed to find the one book he was looking for! Maybe they had all been burned...

No matter. At least he'd found something. Vlad reached into his cape to pull out his prize.

"Oh ugh!" he exclaimed. The extradimensional space beneath his cape was full of pink slime. He pulled off his cape and shook it. Out dropped everything he'd been carrying: his new book, a small bag of various coins and precious stones, a dried lizard's tail, an iron throwing ax, a top hat, and a live black rooster. The chicken ran off, wings flailing as it clucked in fright. Once all that fell out his cape began to drip.

Vlad scowled and tossed his cape off into the corner. He took human form and gathered up those stationary things that had fallen from his cape. The chicken could wait.

*****

Morning dawned rudely with the sound of a cock's crow. Vlad's eyes shot open and he groaned into the open pages of the book he'd been reading. Oh butterscotch, he was still trying to build his image here, he did **not** need curious neighbors wondering why in hell the weird entrepreneur down the street was keeping a rooster. He needed to find that bird and stick it back in his cape.

Vlad yawned and stretched before heading down to his basement lab. The lab door swung open, creaking slightly as it always did. Vlad stepped inside.

His foot slid a bit as he took in the scene around him. Something... was very wrong here... Thin trickles of pink ectoplasm dripped and dribbled down the walls, pooling on the floor. Puddles lurked under the lab benches, all beginning to wiggle and move as light hit them. Vlad watched in fascination as they curled together in the middle of his lab, growing into one large mass. Something drew him toward it, that fascination morphing into an absurd desire to poke it, touch it, something, anything...

That draw broke as it reached for him, its tendrils thickening into tentacles that wrapped around his wrists and dragged him in.

He opened his mouth to scream. The sound didn't get that far as a tentacle was shoved down his throat, cutting off his voice. Slimy tentacles grasped and pulled at his clothing, sliding underneath and ripping it off piece by piece. He struggled, eyes glowing red with the effort as he tried phasing, blasting, thrashing, anything to get free from these grasping tendrils that wrapped themselves around his arms and legs, slid over his bare chest, teased down into the waistband of his pants.

He went tense and still at that feeling. _Oh hell no..._ A moment of dread was all he allowed before forcing anger back to the forefront and struggled anew. The tentacles pricked and prodded at the buttons, deftly slid wool and silk down Vlad's hips, before seeming to give up and just ripping the fabric completely away. Slimy trails meandered all over Vlad's torso and down his legs as tentacles grabbed him by the ankles and forced his legs wide.

Vlad kicked hard, slipping one leg out of its slimy grasp. He slammed his legs back together as he struggled. The tentacles clutched him tighter, wrapping around his torso to hold him. Their little slimy ends trailed up and down his sides before sliding up to circle around his nipples. A shriek was muffled by the tentacle stuffed in his mouth.

The tentacle still wrapped around an ankle held fast as more slid up his legs to wrap around his thighs. He kicked, trying to resist, to get free, anything, but still tendrils squeezed tight around his legs and pulled them apart. He clamped his eyes closed as he felt the tip of a probing tentacle slide up his thigh as though seeking something.

Dread filled his mind. Somehow Vlad had an idea of what it was looking for.

He felt the tip find his anus and tickle at the puckered flesh it found there. His eyes shot open and he arched back with a gurgled scream as it slid inside.

The world went dark for a moment. Wet sloshing filled his hearing and all he could feel was warm slime caressing him from the inside out. He shook his head and the world slowly came back into focus. He was bound in tentacles made of translucent pink ectoplasm, its tendrils wrapped all around his wrists, his thighs, his chest. Surprisingly delicate tips plucked at his nipples, drawing them into eager peaks. A thick tentacle was pressed up inside him, sliding in and out as he found his hips rising up and down to meet it. His mouth fell open and he took great gasps of air as the tentacle gagging him pulled out and slid around his head to pull his hair out of its bindings. He arched back and groaned, blood rushing to his face as he felt his body respond against his will.

He didn't want this. Right?

A tendril wrapped itself around his growing erection and slid up and down his length, boiling away the weakening protests that bubbled in Vlad's mind. He thrust up into its grasp, feeling the tentacle in his ass slide out. He whined at the loss, a whine that turned to a renewed shriek as a new one took its place and shoved itself in perhaps a little too fast. Vlad wiggled, trying to press it deeper inside as he thrust up into the tendril's grasp.

A strange rhythm evolved as he pressed back into the tentacle impaling him then arched up into the one stroking him. Through it all those eager little tips trailed along his thighs, up his chest, down his arms, played with his nipples, tugged at his hair...

He gave a delighted shriek as another tentacle joined the one stuffed up his ass. A third entered as well, stretching him wide. He leaned into it and moaned, his eyes drifting shut. He couldn't imagine not wanting this. He never wanted it to stop...

The tendril on his cock squeezed him in a way that had him screaming. The tip tickled at his slit, spreading it open and probing at the inside.

It was all too much. He arched back and came, spurting white semen all over the tendril that stroked him, kept stroking him. Through lust-hazed vision he couldn't tell where his cum ended and all the slime began. It all looked the same...

One tentacle slid out of him then another. The last one stroked his prostate, making him twitch and moan before it slid out as well. Tentacles that held him in bondage loosened as he collapsed, sinking bonelessly into their embrace. He didn't want to move. He didn't care what happened. He didn't think he **could** move.

But he had to try. He slapped a slimy hand on the floor of the lab and slowly pulled himself away from the mass of tentacled ectoplasm that felt... contented? Yes, that was what it felt like. Satisfied.

Exhausted, sore, slimy... Vlad Masters half crawled, half slid out of his lab. He lifted himself up to his knees, legs still too shaky to stand. From there he was able to close the lab door before collapsing back onto the floor. He laid there, chest heaving.

That... could have been a lot worse.

He held a hand up where he could see it and spread his fingers. Slime stretched like a disgusting webbing between his fingers, dripped down his arms, coated him in a pinkish sheen. He really needed a bath.

Maybe later. Right now he was too busy giggling, the half-mad laughter of the disturbed slowly morphing into something more real. Actually, he felt pretty good.

The gentle sound of soft clucking drew him from his reverie. Ah, yes, the rooster. It looked at him curiously before crowing right at him. Vlad swatted out a slimy arm to grab the chicken, flinging pink goo all down the hallway as the chicken ran off.

Bah. He'd capture it later. Right now he needed to just lie here. Lie here and giggle.


	2. Chapter 2

That had been a nightmare.

Laying on the floor covered in slime and sore in all sorts of unmentionable places wasn't bad enough, no. Of course not. The neighbors had to call Animal Control about the rooster and of course they showed up before he could pull himself together and grab a shower. On top of that he couldn't seem to phase out of this slime and ended up having to answer the door wearing a bathrobe and what had to have looked like a gallon of lube.

Vlad was never living this down.

Now he had to find a new chicken. Damn cops took his.

Worse they were making him stand in line like some sort of... criminal and pay this piddly little fine for having “livestock” in city limits. Ugh. If he'd only been able to find the _Book of Eibon_ he wouldn't have had to deal with this whole chicken fiasco because it would have been dead. Sacrificed to the shopkeeper in exchange for one of the rarest, most precious books he could get his claws on. Considering how little the rooster had cost him he would have by far gotten the better end of the deal.

Now he had to find a new bird. If only he could fit a goat in his cape.

“Next.”

Vlad pushed past the line and slammed his paperwork down in front of the clerk. He quickly pulled out the measly $50 he was being fined and glared at her. He could have sworn she slowed down in her movements just to piss him off even more.

He hated courthouses.

*****

That was... excruciatingly annoying. Waiting in line at the courthouse took up the majority of his day and his feet hurt. His back hurt. His legs hurt. His head hurt. Heck, he just hurt. Ah, well, it was nothing a good long soak in a hot bath couldn't cure. Then tomorrow he could get to writing those proposals he wasn't able to do today. 

Vlad headed to the bathroom first, stopped the tub, and turned on the water as hot as it could go. He wandered back out to his bedroom where he could get properly undressed.

He let his thoughts wander as he tugged his shoes and socks off. He never did figure out where that pink slime had crawled to. It must have oozed its way back through his portal to the ghost zone. It certainly didn't leave his lab through the door, he'd have noticed it while he was lying right there in the hallway.

Vlad's hands went to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with quick precision. Where else could it have gone? Worst case scenario it had escaped through the air vent. Probably not; he'd have seen it dripping out of a vent in another room or the heater's pilot light would have been snuffed out by contact with far too much slime. Unless...

Nah. It was too big to escape through the plumbing. Vlad slipped the shirt off of his shoulders. The shirt dropped to the bed as he unbuckled his belt.

Pants and underwear were shoved to the floor. He stepped out of the last of his clothes and padded naked back to the bathroom. The tub was probably full by now. Odd, though, the water didn't sound quite right. He walked into the bathroom and stopped dead.

“Not again,” he whispered.

It had been hiding in the plumbing.

The room was full of steam, promising a nice hot bath. That promise was a lie as the steam rose not from water but from the thick pink slime that roiled and shifted in the bathtub. Long pseudopods oozed outward from the mass, tracing the perimeter of the room. Slime dripped down the walls and pooled on the floor everywhere those horrible reaching tentacles had touched. Nothing in the room went untouched as the slime felt everywhere, as though it were trying to learn its new surroundings. He stepped back, trying not to disturb it. Maybe he could go to a hotel...

His foot slid as he stepped on a thin film of slimy trail. Suddenly the pink mass turned its attention toward him.

“Oh no,” Vlad said.

The door slammed before he could reach it. He looked at it, seeing the pink tentacle that spread its slime all over it, claiming it.

Vlad went intangible. Surely this ectoplasm was a physical construct, it wouldn't be able to touch him like this. Right?

The pink tentacle sealing the door shot out at Vlad, wrapping around his waist. So much for that idea. Vlad struggled but lost control, fading back into tangibility. 

He was trapped.

“Let me go!” he shouted. The tentacle bound him around his waist. His hands went to its slimy surface, trying to grab onto it, push it off of his waist, anything. Palms slipped and slid as they desperately groped for purchase before sliding in between the tentacle and his waist. It pulled tight, trapping his wrists next to his waist as a second and third tentacle reached out to wrap around his waist and one leg.

“Butter brickle,” he swore, cringing and clenching tight on both ends. He knew what was going to happen next. Now it was going to start shoving tentacles into his orifices until he enjoyed it. Well he wasn't going to go down without some sort of fight.

The tentacles pulled him off balance, catching him before he hit the ground. It pulled him close, very close, before wrapping a thick pseudopod around his legs and holding them still. Odd, it wasn't spreading him wide. Instead it lifted him into the air and pulled him into the tub.

“What the fondant!” Vlad shrieked as the tentacles seemed to dissolve, replaced instead with the whole heavy mass of steaming hot, roiling, pink slime. His hands went to the sides of the tub and gripped it with all the traction his slimy hands could muster. He threw himself into a sitting position as his legs sank into heavy clinging slime. He had to get out of this. Get out of it before it engulfed him and did... whatever it was going to do this time.

Pseudopods slid up his back as tentacles reached up to wrap around his arms. He tried to arch away from the slime's touch. It followed him, wrapping around him and pulling his straining body down into its reach.

Scrabbling hands lost their grip on the sides of the tub as tentacles pulled his arms down into the mass. Vlad struggled, shifting his shoulders, wiggling his legs, grasping his hands at nothing, anything he could do to possibly get away from this seething mass as it held him down, pulled him in, slid tendrils up to stroke his neck and face, to tug his hair from its bindings. 

“Please, just let me go,” Vlad whimpered. He knew it didn't hear him, couldn't understand him. He knew it would never obey his commands. He didn't care. His voice was all he had left to defend himself with. “Don't do this to me, not again. Let me go.”

Pink slime crawled up his torso, inching up his chest along the tracks and trails left behind by groping tentacles. Its heavy weight shoved him down, pulled him down against the side of the tub in a mockery of what he'd planned on doing with his night before this... thing usurped everything. Vlad scrunched his eyes closed, fully expecting to feel warm slime engulfing his head and forcing its way into his lungs. And then...

It stopped.

Vlad's eyes opened slowly, unsure. This... couldn't be...

He wasn't dead. He tried to move but he was still stuck fast where he was. He was still sunk up to his neck in a bathtub of heated, pink-tinged ectoplasm with questionable origins and even more questionable motives. But... it wasn't doing anything. It was just holding him there.

Vlad could feel the fear bleeding out of him as the slime's oppressive heat moved in. Try as he might to ignore it, to prevent it, the knots and soreness of his muscles were slowly unwinding, relaxing. And then...

Ohhh... Vlad held back a groan as the slime moved around him, spots of pressure moving around inside the mass, spots running along the worst of his knots like this was some sort of living massage chair. Down his spine, along the backs of his thighs, around his calves, up the arches of his feet, even between his fingers and against the palms of his hands. He writhed against its touch, its vice-like hold loosening as it worked his sore muscles.

Now was the time to escape, he told himself. Now, while it's distracted and only loosely holding him down. And then the pseudopods wrapped around his shoulders and pressed down, sinking him up to his chin as he arched into their touch. His arms went limp at the pressure massaging the tension from his neck. He lost the battle with his voice, a long moan tearing itself from his throat as all thought of escape dissolved as surely as the tension in his body.

His eyes drifted shut. He felt the slime shifting around him, something else happening with it. He knew he should be concerned. After all, this was a ghost zone construct escaped into the living world. It could be trying to engulf and digest him. It could be trying to enter him, control him, possess him. He snorted. If so then it was going to have a hard time, his head was already pretty crowded.

A tentacle brushed his slackened lips, seeking entrance. Vlad opened his eyes to see the mass had separated into the form he was more familiar with, that of a multitude of tentacles all draped over and under him, exploring, seeking, touching... The oddest thought entered his head.

It had been seducing him.

If so then physically it was doing a pretty good job. His body was so relaxed he felt as limp and formless as the slime was. Mentally he still wasn't too sure. 

A tentacle slid between his legs to slide up the front of his torso. Its length brushed against his limp penis, enticing it to respond. The tip of that tentacle stroked up to his chest, its length sliding back and forth between his legs while it groped for a nipple to pluck at.

The tentacle at his lips pressed again, dragging itself along his bottom lip like the tongue of a lover. Vlad reached out with his tongue to flick it back. Its tip slid along his tongue, slimy and slightly sweet. Sweet and a little metallic. He licked along the tentacle's length and pulled away to see what it would do.

The tentacles around him wrapped around his limbs, sliding along his skin, warm and heavy. They seemed to embrace him before the tentacle at his lips flicked out to seek entrance again.

Vlad closed his eyes and gave in. He opened his mouth and let it slide inside.

His lips closed around the tentacle as he sucked lightly on it, its movements feeling almost excited against his tongue. He felt tentacles wrap around his ankles and his thighs, gently tugging. Vlad leaned back against the side of the tub and spread his legs, letting the tentacles dictate how he should lay. His hands went to the porcelain bottom of the tub, trying to keep some sort of traction. They slipped and slid in the slime until tentacles grabbed them and wrapped all around him to hold him still.

Vlad hummed in pleasure as they kept him bound, a sound that surprised him as much as the feeling. He didn't even know he liked being bound before this. But then he didn't even know he liked being fucked by overeager semi-sentient ectoplasmic tentacles either.

He whined as he felt a tentacle tickling between his legs. He swallowed around the tentacle in his throat before moaning. He could feel his cock filling as he writhed in the slimy pink grasp. He spread his legs a little wider and arched toward the tentacle's touch. It stroked his anus with feathered, teasing touches, not actually entering him. Vlad groaned with need, his toes clenching as he tried to press back into the tentacle, to impale himself, anything.

A tentacle reached up his neck then around his head before grasping his hair and yanking his head back. The tentacle in his throat popped out, dragging from him a long, low moan. “Fuck me, dammit,” he begged. “Please.”

Again the slimy mass didn't answer, didn't obey. Instead it kept teasing. Tendrils started flicking over his nipples as a tentacle slid its way up to his throat and drew a line of slime from his neck all the way down his midline. Vlad arched into its touch. It came back up, tracing his lips. He tried to suck it back into his mouth but the tentacle in his hair gripped too tight. All he could do was lick his tongue at it, hoping to get some sort of taste, to tell it somehow what he needed from it.

The tentacle slid up the side of his face before stroking back down and tracing those lips again. Vlad's mouth went slack, gasping for breath as he fought to regain some sort of control, to gain some sensation other than these tickling, teasing touches.

The tentacle at his ass traced a lazy circle around his entrance before finally wiggling inside. Vlad arched back and shrieked at the intrusion, a shriek that was muffled quickly by the tentacle that shoved it way down his throat. He moaned, the sound little more than a cascade of bubbles as the tentacle in his ass writhed and burrowed in. It finally stopped, pulling out before surging back in even deeper. Vlad's thighs were kept spread wide and he leaned back into the slime, unable or unwilling to regain control as tentacles writhed over him and within him.

He pressed back into the tentacle fucking him with each stroke, feeling the thick appendage go deeper each time. He wasn't even sure how deep it could go but this tentacle seemed determined to find out. The tentacle at his hair yanked at him again, pulling him forward to look down at himself. The tentacle in his mouth slipped out, releasing his moans as he saw the impossible length sliding in and out of him. It was so long, so wide...

He was so damned hard and yet the slime was ignoring his erection. He tried to reach for it, to pump his neglected cock. Instead the tentacles that held his wrists pulled tight, yanking his hands away from any sort of relief they might provide. Vlad whined as pseudopods cradled him, kept him in a position where he was forced to watch as the slime had its way with him and left his pleasure utterly neglected.

He was completely at its mercy.

The thought alone wrenched a moan out of him. “Let me cum,” he whispered. “Please?”

As if in response a tendril snaked around his erection and tightened around the base. He cried out at the sensation, as all hope for release was taken from him.

He knew he was in for a long, hard ride.

The tentacles braced him, folded his legs up just enough that he was forced to sink backwards into the slime's embrace. Sound went weird as his ears were cut off from the outside world, trapped within the grunting, thrusting world of this ghostly pink slime. And then...

Vlad screamed as the slime surged into him anew, thrusting into him roughly. Tentacles fought for space as they surged into him, stroking him from the inside out, stretching him, filling him, thrusting in and pulling out like the roughest sex he had ever had. His hands grasped at nothing, his toes curled as all his nerves sang discordant notes of confused pain, of overloaded pleasure. Screams were wrenched from him as he took it all.

After an eternity the pressure keeping his cock bound disappeared. Vlad thrust blindly into the air, seeking some sort of friction to finish him. Instead a tentacle wrapped itself around his cock and squeezed, pumping him in time with the reaming of his ass.

He didn't last long. A few strokes was all it took before he was screaming out his orgasm, muscles clenching around the tentacles in his ass as they slid out one by one. Semen spurted all over his belly and chest, mixing in with the slime as he writhed in its grasp. As the spasms slowed all but one tentacle pulled out of him. That one wiggled its tip, making Vlad gasp at the sensation, before slowly pulling out leaving him almost painfully empty.

Vlad laid there, spent and thoroughly used. He couldn't move much less escape. If the slime decided to eat him now he would not care. His eyes fell shut as he drifted in a sea of pink slime, a sea that stretched out forever as the world fell away.

*****

When he came to Vlad was sprawled out in the bathtub. He was covered in a thin film of slime as was the tub and the majority of the bathroom. He blinked owlishly at his surroundings, stretching overextended muscles, rubbing his sore ass, looking around... Wait a minute...

The slime was... gone. Missing. Crawled off. Vlad scratched his head as he searched the bathroom.

It wasn't there.

He stood on shaky legs. Wherever the slime went he'd worry about it in the morning. He pulled the slimy door open and trudged to bed, not caring that he was leaving a trail of pink-tinged ectoplasm to his bedroom. He fell face first into his bed and was soon fast asleep.


End file.
